"See that knee action!" he exulted. "Did either of you ever see a prettier bit of traveling? We're doing a mile in two-thirty!"
"Bother the horse!" growled McGlory. "Keep your eyes on the road for clues."
"Clues! I'll bet money the 'barker' wouldn't get off the car. How could Matt make him? He couldn't, of course. Nothing short of a cop and a warrant could make Wily Bill leave the car if he was set for reaching Grand Rapids. I might have known that, if I had stopped to think. We'll have to keep right on into town—and, then, like as not, we won't find either Matt or Wily. Now——"
"Whoa!" cried McGlory. "You're shy a few, Burton. Here's where we stop."
"What's up?" returned Burton, reining in his spirited roadster.
"Look there!"
McGlory pointed to the left-hand side of the road. Close to a steep bank, against a clump of bushes, stood the motor cycle.
"Jupiter!" exclaimed Burton.
"Great Scott!" cried the owner of the machine.
McGlory tumbled clear of the runabout and started toward the bushes. He had not taken half a dozen steps, however, before he came to a dead stop.